


Where My Demons Hide

by whitewolfandthefox



Series: Geralt x Reader One Shots [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Illnesses, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22976734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitewolfandthefox/pseuds/whitewolfandthefox
Summary: Geralt POV. Geralt x fem!reader. Geralt is seriously injured on a hunt and has to take a witcher elixir to survive the fight. He meets you on the road back to your house, freezing at what he sees in your eyes when you meet his black gaze, face pale from the elixir. He despairs when you turn away from him at the sight, before you surprise him with what you do next.Warnings: mentions of blood and illness
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: Geralt x Reader One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645222
Comments: 1
Kudos: 139





	Where My Demons Hide

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Bitch you want a prompt? I'll give you a prompt. Take the song "Demons" by Imagine Dragons and use it for inspiration to give me a Geralt x reader prompt where she finds dark!Geralt wounded and still under the effects of the potion and he tries to tell her to leave him, he'll be fine, but she's like "no u fuckin idiot ur BLEEDING" and she takes care of him and he wakes up to her being all soft and taking care of him and he's very confused and insecure. Angst, happy ending or not is up to you :)

The sun was setting on the horizon as he finally reached the road. It had been a rough hunt, Geralt not moving quite fast enough at one point and suffering the consequences. He had been forced to take one of his witcher elixirs in order to kill the monster, and was utterly exhausted from the fight. He had been injured, a deep slash that ran from his left shoulder to his hip. The wound itself, though deep, was not as worrisome as the poison that the vampire had put on his sword, the poison that was now in his bloodstream. The only reason Geralt was still on his feet was the elixir that still coursed through his veins.

Having left Roach at the house that he shared with you, Geralt was forced to limp back, slowly but surely covering ground to safety. He felt relieved that you wouldn’t be home to see him like this, you had gone to visit your sister for two weeks and wouldn’t be back for another two days. He would be able to sleep the elixir out of his system, you wouldn’t see him for the monster that he was.

As injured as he was, Geralt was still aware of his surroundings, so when he heard footsteps coming up the road behind him, he tried to move quickly into the trees to let whoever was travelling pass him. He didn’t quite make it into the forest before the traveller caught a flash of his white hair in the treeline.

“Geralt?”

He closed his eyes in frustration, conflicting emotions raging through him. Happiness at the thought that he would get to see you, guilt that you had to see him like this, fear that you would leave him. An overwhelming feeling of pain and despair made him heavy, forcing him to pause in the treeline, keeping his back to you.

“Geralt, is that you?” He could hear the footsteps getting closer. “Geralt, what’s wrong? Look at me please.”

He could hear the worry in your voice, striking at the center of his chest like he’d been stabbed. You wouldn’t be worried about him once you saw who he truly was.

_Don't get too close_

_It's dark inside_

“Geralt please, you’re scaring me. Are you injured? What happened?” A note of panic was working its way through your voice, shaking as he refused to answer you, refused to turn around.

He couldn’t show you, he couldn’t turn around and let you see what he was. His shoulders tensed, curling in, guarding against the rejection that was sure to follow. He could feel you getting closer, hear you approaching him, your heart rate accelerated with worry.

_I wanna hide the truth_

_I want to shelter you,_

_but with the beast inside_

_there’s nowhere we can hide._

He felt a hand on his shoulder, tugging at him to turn around. Never able to resist you, he slowly turned so that he was facing you, keeping his eyes closed. He felt fingers touching his face, stroking his cheek, and his eyes fluttered, showing slits of black. He heard a gasp and a quick backstep as you drew back from him. _She fears me, she will leave me, I was never good enough for her, now she knows who I truly am, she has seen the monster, the demon, that hides inside me_. He could sense your presence getting farther from him, retreating out of fear of him.

His mind whirled, shoulders hunching in on himself, body reeling from the feeling of despair and the blood loss. You were leaving, you were scared of him. You, who had promised you loved him, had lied to him. He didn’t blame you, he would also despise the monster that his human face hid.

As he spiralled slowly into despair, he felt a slight body slip under his arm, cloth pressed to his wound. He opened his dark eyes, black gaze locking with your Y/E/C eyes. You looked back at him with no fear, no disgust, only worry, worry for him? How could he be deserving of your concern when he was like this?

_When you feel my heat_

_Look into my eyes_

_Its where my demons hide_

“Come Geralt,” you murmured. “Let’s go home. We’ll get you cleaned up and into bed.” Gently, you took his weight and started to lead him down the road. Geralt could see darkness snatching at the edges of his vision, could feel his body failing as the poison took hold. Silently, he cursed the vampire that had managed to injure him.

“Wha- are you do’in?” he slurred, unconsciously leaning into you for support. As he realized this, he tried to right himself, taking his weight off your body. You gently, but firmly, reached up and tugged him back down to lean against you. He resisted at first, before giving in as he felt the world spin and his body sway from the blood loss.

“You take care of others, Geralt, let me take care of you. Lean on me, let me share your burden, love.” You shushed his protests, still guiding the two of you towards the house that had appeared in front of you without his notice. _I must be drifting_. You nudged the gate open with your hip, keeping one hand on Geralt’s side and one helping him stay upright. You quickly got him inside the house and into your bathing room.

When Geralt next looked up, you were nowhere to be found. Your disappearance shot straight to his core, the panic reappearing, his heart rate accelerating. His chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, the world spinning and disappearing in front of him. The next thing he knew, you were kneeling at his side, _when had he fallen?_ , holding him, murmuring reassurances in his ear. He weakly pushed himself off of you, “Your dress,” he mumbled, seeing the bloodstains that were slowly appearing on your skirt from where he rested.

“Don’t worry about my dress,” you helped lift him onto the chair next to the tub, reaching for the ties of his armour, your deft fingers making quick work of the laces before dropping the various pieces onto the floor. Having removed his armour, you gently started working on his shirt, taking care to avoid agitating the sword cut in his side. Kneeling between his legs, you began to untie his breeches with the intention of getting him into the bath. He could see the steam rising from the tub, _when had you filled it?_ , the gentle curls disappearing into the air.

He returned his gaze to stare at you in wonder, in awe at the softness that seeped out of you, shocked at the gentleness that you used with him as you removed his clothes. You weren’t afraid of him, you didn’t fear his black gaze or his pale skin, you didn’t run from him at the sight of the monster within. Geralt couldn’t reconcile your gentle treatment with what he thought he deserved from you, with how other people treated him.

_Your eyes they shine so bright_

_I want to save that light_

_I can’t escape this now_

_Unless you show me how_

He caught your hand, pausing you in your efforts to derobe him. “Why, mouse? Why don’t you fear me?” He swallowed harshly before continuing. “I could hurt you.”

Rather than backing away as he expected, you took his hand between both of yours, looking up at him from where you were kneeling on the floor in front of him with a soft gaze. Your lips curved into a soft smile, “You could never hurt me.”

_Don’t wanna let you down_

_But I am hell bound_

_No, this is all for you_

_Don't wanna hide the truth_

He shook his head, pulling his hand from yours. “I’m dangerous, a monster. You should despise me.” You stood and moved closer, gently pulling him down to rest against you, your embrace grounding him. He asked quietly, voice breaking, “How can you still love me after seeing me like this?”

“I will never stop loving you, Geralt of Rivia.” you responded quietly. When he started to speak again, you shushed him, dropping your head to rest your face in his hair. “Up,” you tugged at him. “Let’s get you in the bath and in bed. You will feel better tomorrow, and we can continue this conversation then.”

You half carried him over to the tub, helping him into the hot water, smiling at his groan of pleasure. You reached for a washcloth and soap beside you. Gently tapping his shoulder, you signalled for him to wet his hair. He obliged, and you added soap, gently massaging his scalp. As you continued with your ministrations, rinsing his air and starting to work on cleaning his face and chest, Geralt could feel himself falling towards unconsciousness, black eyes fluttering shut.

He drifted, dreaming of gentle hands, gentle words. _Geralt_. He smiled, relaxing further into the dark embrace. _Geralt!_ He tried turning his head to look for who was calling him, frowning when he found he couldn’t move. GERALT! A sharp pain flared in his side, causing his eyes to fly open.

“Geralt!” You were leaning over him, terror filling your face. He blinked slowly, trying to identify where the threat that had you so terrified was. He felt hot, dizzy. Groaning, he tried to lift himself to his feet, stopping when he felt your hand against his chest. “What hurt you?” you frantically asked. “You wouldn’t wake up, you weren’t responding. Your side is inflamed. _What were you hunting?_ ”

“The sword… was poisoned… He managed to catch me…” Geralt managed to get out, before he felt his head loll to the side. “I’m sorry, little mouse. Please forgive me.” He could hear you curse under your breath, felt your presence disappear down the hall. He felt like he should be concerned, could smell your fear and desperation in the air, but couldn’t find the energy to muster the feeling.

Your footsteps grew louder before you appeared by his side again, pulling on his arm to help him step out of the tub and out of the room.

**~*~*~*~**

Panicked, you dragged Geralt down the hallway, not bothering with the water dripping from his naked body. You cursed every time he faltered, pressing closer to him and urging him along. You quickly reached your bedroom, guiding him to the bed in the middle of the room before helping him lay down. You flinched at his pained moan, hands fluttering frantically above him.

After getting him settled, you grabbed for something on the table beside the bed, uncorking a vial filled with the elixir Geralt used against poisons. You went to lift his head, but Geralt shook you off, eyes squeezing shut, growing impossibly paler. You tried a second time, but he again turned his head, refusing to take the potion. Forcing his mouth open, you poured the liquid into his mouth before clamping your fingers over his mouth and nose, trying to doge as his hands began to flail. Desperately, you continued to block his airways, forcing him to swallow, only jerking back when one of his hands clipped your face after seeing the reflexive motion in his throat. You raised a hand to where the blow had landed, blood dripping from your lip.

Ignoring the blood, you picked up a salve, opening the jar and spreading it onto Geralt’s wound before picking up a needle and thread, neatly and efficiently stitching the wound shut. You bandaged it and pulled the blanket up over your injured lover, who had finally drifted off into a restless sleep. You used an extra cloth to wipe the blood from your face, wincing as it pulled at the torn skin.

You used the inside of your wrist to test Geralt’s temperature, and feeling it to be hot, went to fetch a bucket of cold water and cloths for the fever. Returning, you wet a piece of fabric and placed it on Geralt’s forehead, brushing his hair out of his face. You settled yourself in the chair next to the bed and kept watch, soothing the man when he tossed and cried out from the fever, changing bandages when the blood seeping out of the wound began to stain them, changing the cloth on his head when he got too hot.

You sighed, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes at the sight of your lover in pain. It wasn’t fair, he gave so much of himself but got so little in return. You were desperate to change this, to give him the love that he deserved. You prepared yourself for a long night, determined to care for this man, determined to get him through his fever and relieve him of his pain.

**~*~*~*~**

_Pain, burning, fever. Geralt writhed, crying out for Y/N. I’m sorry, he cried, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. Forgive me, please._

He could feel cool hands against his skin, water dripping down his face. He could hear your soft voice in the distance, soothing him, before being pulled back under, fighting as hard as he could to reach you.

_Don’t go, I need you, I love you. I’ll try harder, do better, just don’t leave me. They always leave._

He fell into the darkness, succumbing to the pain in his side and the burning of the fever ravaging his body.

**~*~*~*~**

By the time that Geralt finally quieted as his fever broke, the sun was well into the sky. You had been awake the entire night fighting his temperature down, doing all that you could to see him comfortable. You slumped in your chair, exhausted but happy. After giving yourself a couple of minutes to rest, you came to your feet with a groan and approached the bed. The witcher was not as pale, some colour having come back into his cheeks after the fever broke. Picking up a second vial of the potion you had forced into him earlier, you gave him a smaller second dose to ensure the poison had left his system. That done, you checked his bandages a final time, and seeing no blood with your sutures still intact, you fell back into the chair, gripping his hand as you allowed sleep to finally overtake you.

**~*~*~*~**

Geralt groaned and tried to shift in the bed, before becoming aware of something heavy holding his arm down. He opened his eyes and immediately shut them against the light. Taking a minute to recover, he cracked his eyelids to observe a familiar ceiling above him. He was lying in the bed that he shared with you, back home in your house. Closing his eyes, he took stock of how he felt. His head was pounding, body weak, side sore from the sword injury. He couldn’t remember much of what happened after he had slain the vampire. He could see flashes, could see the terror in your face as you leaned over him, remembered the pain in his side, remembered not being able to breathe properly.

Opening his eyes again, he tried to turn his head to look towards where his arm was trapped. With great effort, he was able to shift enough to see you sitting in a chair, slumped over onto the bed, his hand held between both of yours. Lifting his other hand, he hissed as pain flared in his side. Carefully, he reached over and brushed the hair out of your face before freezing at the sight that met him.

A bruise in the shape of a handprint decorated the side of your face, accompanied by a split lip with dried blood still on the wound. Flashes of memories flew past his eyes, _Y/N leaning over him, a vial in her hand, trying to get away, a bitter liquid poured down his throat, something covering his mouth, not being able to breath, trying to fight what held him down. He could see the shock in her eyes as her hand flew to her mouth, touching the blood that was on her face, the blood that he spilt._

He snatched his hand away as if burned. The movement jostled you, causing you to blearily blink your eyes before you came to awareness with a start. You reached for him, an expression of hurt flitting over your face when he flinched away from you.

“Geralt?” you asked, as you clasped your hands in your lap. Your face was expressionless as you watched him, eyes locked onto his gaze.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bruise on your face, the bruise that _he gave you, he hurt you, oh gods, he was a monster, you needed to get away from him._

“Geralt!” a hand gripped his, not letting go even as he tried to pull away. “Talk to me,” you breathed as you shifted yourself onto the bed. Your hand came up to cup his face, forcing him to look at you.

Reluctantly, he brought his gaze up to yours, his now golden eyes locking with yours. “There you are,” you murmured. “I missed you.”

“I hurt you,” Geralt ignored the feelings your admission brought. Understanding filled your face, and a small smile came to your lips. You shook your head, “This is nothing,” you assured him. You shifted closer, and when he made no move to stop you, you crawled the rest of the way up the bed to settle next to him, leaning against the headboard. You reached over to pick up his hand, lacing your fingers with his as you set it in your lap. Distantly, he recognized that you were now wearing a different dress than earlier. _I need to buy her a new one._

You laughed, crumpling in on yourself. At Geralt’s confused stare, you explained, “You don’t need to buy me a new dress, darling. That one was old and ready to be thrown out.”

“I said that out loud?” “Yes, my dear, you did. You must still be out of it if you are speaking your thoughts freely.”

You shifted, pulling Geralt down to lie on the bed next to you. You made no comment when he shifted away from you, only turning on your side to regard him when he hissed as his movements put pressure on his side. He continued to stare up at the ceiling, ignoring the feeling of your gaze on him.

You reached out, running your hand up and down his arm. “You did not hurt me, Geralt. You could never hurt me. I love you.”

He met your eyes, gaze broken. “But I did,” he whispered. His hand reached up, hovering over the bruise on your cheek. “I hit you. I’m a monster. I don’t understand, how can you still love me?”

Lifting your head from where you had pillowed it on your arm you glared at him. “You are not a monster, Geralt of Rivia.” you said fiercely, “I will not stand for this kind of talk. You are more than deserving of my love, of anyone’s love. What you do for me, for the world, the pain and burden that you take upon yourself, you deserve so much more than what I can give you. Besides, I was holding you down and preventing you from breathing, you reacted. You would never intentionally hit me, would never intentionally hurt me. You have too pure of a soul for that.”

Shocked, he stared at you. “That is truly what you think?”

You nodded your head. “Of course. You risk your life saving others, with little to no thanks.” You smiled gently, “You are my world, my love, my heart. No one else appreciates you, so I make it my goal to appreciate you even more to make up for it.”

He closed his eyes, reaching his arm out towards you. You obliged, shifting over and tucking yourself into his uninjured side, laying your head on his chest. “I try to think of a way to thank you for what you do for this world, but I can never think of anything that will truly make up for what you give.”

“I don’t deserve thanks, this is what I was designed for, made for.” He looked back up at the roof.

You sat up suddenly, turning to stare hard at him. “Fuck that!” He jumped, surprised at your ferocity. “You are the purest heart I have ever come across. You never complain, you take all of the abuse that is thrown at you. You’re a fucking idiot if you think that way! You deserve all of the thanks I can give you.” You blinked back tears. “It tears at my heart that you think you are unworthy of my love. Please Geralt, can’t you see what I see? You are the love of my life, the most loving man I have ever met. Accept my thanks, please.”

“Just having you in my arms is enough thanks for me, little mouse.” He reached up and tugged you back down against his chest, tucking your head back under his chin, gripping you a little tighter in response to your fierce devotion.

_They say it's what you make it_

_Say it's up to fate It's woven in my soul_

You nestled further into his arms. “I will teach you to love yourself just as much as you love me,” you murmured against his chest.

Geralt dropped a kiss on the top of your head, pulling you as close as he could. “I will try, little mouse, I will try for you.”

Sighing, you relaxed against him, the stress of last night and your outburst finally catching up to you. Feeling your body droop and watching your eyes close, Geralt buried his nose in your hair. “Sleep, my heart. Thank you for staying. Thank you for loving me.”

Together, the two of you slowly drifted, content in each other's company, happy with holding each other as you slept.


End file.
